


Whole New Kinds of Weather

by LowerEastSide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Harry Potter, Breasts, Come Eating, Community: dracotops_harry, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Other, Post-Hogwarts, Top Draco Malfoy, genderqueer Draco, spells as prep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LowerEastSide/pseuds/LowerEastSide
Summary: She’s just as compelling as she’s ever been.





	Whole New Kinds of Weather

**Author's Note:**

> For Dracotops_Harry 2018! Thank you to the mods for allowing me to write my own prompt and for running such a great fest. Thank you also to @Drarryismymuse for the excellent beta job.
> 
> I myself am genderqueer, and I didn’t see much in Drarry fandom, so I wanted to write it. That being said, this is shameless PWP. Title from the Magnetic Fields.
> 
> EDIT: I've opted (after consideration) to check off both M/M and Other for this fic. I don't think "other" really satisfies me (and personally it feels off-putting to describe my own sexuality as 'other') but it's also not really m/m... however I know most Drarry readers are looking for 'm/m' tags, and people looking for genderqueer fics may look through the 'other' tag if for no reason than a lack of options, so I'm going to check both. Interested to hear anyone else's thoughts.

She’s just as compelling as she’s ever been. Seated at the long bar, platinum hair shining in the warm glow from the frosted glass lamps, one elegant finger tracing the outside of her glass. Harry can’t help but stare.

It’s been five years since he’s seen Malfoy, but there’s no mistaking those cheekbones or those grey eyes. The hair is longer, falling across exposed shoulders in a wave, and the breasts are definitely new, but it’s unmistakably Draco Malfoy on the other side of the room laughing with the bartender.

Well. Maybe not ‘Draco’ anymore.

And it’s the same pull Harry feels now that he always felt - across the Great Hall at dinner, across the Great Hall after the battle, across time and distance that shrinks to nothing as he rises to his feet. Potter… Malfoy. Malfoy taunts Potter, by words or presence alone. Potter follows Malfoy, tied on an invisible lead.

Potter sits down next to Malfoy at a bar in Paris.

~*~

The bartender is attentive and immediately makes his way over before Harry can get out more than a “Hullo, Malfoy.” He eyes Harry, looking back and forth between him and Malfoy and taking stock of the empty seats elsewhere at the bar. “And is the lady doing alright with her drink?” he pointedly asks Malfoy. Ah, he’s checking that she’s - and looks like Harry has his pronouns right - ok with Harry approaching her. Maybe they’re friends, or he’s just good at his job.

Malfoy arches one sculpted brow and swirls her still half-full drink around. “I’m fine, Pierre.” Her voice is still posh, liquid and deep, at odds with her appearance.

Harry feels comfortable ordering a good bourbon, neat. The Boulevardier was invented in France, after all. He’s not the uncultured sod Malfoy probably thinks he is. He turns to her after ordering to find a bemused look on her face.

“What brings you to Paris, Potter?”

“I’m meeting with their Minister’s security team in preparation for an official state visit to London. I’m in charge of Kingsley’s security, so we need to coordinate.”

“Ah. Yes, I do still read the paper. You’ve done quite well for yourself.” The whiskey appears in front of Harry and he sips it while taking a better look at the vision in front of him.

Malfoy’s silvery hair looks far softer, freed from the harsh gel of their teenage years. It hugs her face without hiding her eyes, which are lined in kohl. Her breasts are small, but she’s got what little cleavage she possesses maximized to swell under the off-the-shoulder black velvet blouse. Grey trousers, fashionably cut, hold long, long legs which end in feet encased in low black leather pumps. Harry would be captivated by her if she were a stranger on the street. The fact that she’s _Malfoy_ entrances him to the point of near hypnotism.

His whiskey is half gone before he realizes that he’s simply sitting there without talking. Malfoy is doing the same though; her eyes rake up and down his figure, which Harry likes to think is reasonably fit. The attraction between them is palpable. Malfoy takes a last sip of her drink; even before she can set it down, Harry is motioning the bartender over.

“Another of what h- she’s having.” The bartender turns to begin preparing what looks like a Sazerac.

“Sorry about the slip, Malfoy.”

She shrugs. “Thank you for caring. It’s all right, though. I’m not just a woman, you know.” Harry can’t help but look at the small but sweet breasts that tempt him, before glancing quickly back up to Malfoy’s face, which holds a knowing smile.

“I’m more in the middle. I’m both. You know me as ‘he,’ and I’m perfectly fine with you using that. Might get a little confusing in public, I suppose. I do present a feminine front.”

Since Harry came out in the _Prophet_ as bisexual three years ago, he’s had a number of conversations about identity, with strangers and friends alike. He’s not entirely out of his depth here. “So, may I ask how you identify, if it’s not too personal?”

Malfoy swirls the ice in her drink as she waits for a new one. “Oh, labels. Well. Bigender, genderqueer, around there. You know, Potter, I didn’t come into this bar to talk queer identity tonight.”

“What did you come for?” Harry still isn’t sure he’s not taking up the place of a date she’s waiting on.

Malfoy grins at him, predatory and wicked, a look he’s seen in the past right before she managed to get him in trouble at school on multiple occasions.

“I came here to get laid.”

~*~

Malfoy’s flat is as posh as Harry expected. Soft blue curtains flutter around the windows and the parquet floors gleam. She takes him by the hand and gently leads him down a hallway. She’s so elegant in her walk, her simple movements. Harry wonders if she studied Narcissa or if it's a natural talent.

It had only taken two drinks and the slow slide of Malfoy’s foot up and down his leg before Harry called for the check and leaned over to murmur in her ear.

“Where are you staying?"

“I live around the corner.”

And now here they are. As they reach the bedroom, Malfoy hesitates briefly and then yanks Harry inside. Before he knows what's happening, Harry finds himself pushed against the abruptly closed door. Malfoy slants her mouth over his and Harry immediately opens up to deepen the kiss. Their tongues meet and Malfoy presses in closer. She’s the same height, and it’s thrilling to feel breasts against his body, higher than the shorter women he’s been with in the past. He raises his hand to palm one through her shirt, and she moans his name.

“ _Harry_.”

His name has never sounded so erotic before, and he winds an arm around her waist to pull her even closer. “Do I still call you Draco?” he asks between kisses.

“Yes, I’m still Draco. The stars are beautiful, after all.”

“ _You’re_ beautiful. Merlin, you’re so beautiful.”

Harry’s hand moves lower, and clutches her firm, perfect arse, before yanking her flush against him.

Their erections meet, and he gasps.

“I did tell you I’m not a just a woman,” Draco says, a bit of a challenge in her voice. Harry can see insecurity in her eyes, and with a pointed look, he slowly moves his hand from her arse to press against her cock, which is warm under her trousers.

“Yeah. You told me. I’m still here.”

He pushes off the door and walks them both backwards to the bed. They tumble onto it, side by side, and resume kissing. The sheets are the softest Harry’s ever felt, and they still aren’t nearly as soft as her skin, which is being revealed as they tear their clothing off piece by piece. The push-up bra, Harry’s pants, the sexy pumps - all are thrown to various corners of the room as they rut against one another, their passion increasing.

Harry leans down to suck a pink nipple into his mouth, curling his tongue, and Draco arches her back. One hand glides over her breast and the other strays down until he’s stroking her cock, pulling the foreskin up over the head and then down, teasing the slit. She whines and thrusts up into his grip, fucking the air needily when he lets go to move down under her balls. As he reaches one finger back to trace her entrance, she stiffens a bit.

Harry likes to think he’s become perceptive through his not-inadequate number of sexual encounters over the past few years. He pulls away to lay his hand on her hip and moves his mouth up to her neck, licking her collarbones, her adam’s apple, her sharp jaw.

“Hey, Draco,” he whispers in her ear. “Would you fuck me?”

Draco’s eyes fly open, and she looks like all her Christmases have come at once.

“Perfect Harry Potter,” she whispers back, and leans over him, laying butterfly-light kisses along his eyes and cheeks. “Perfect” _kiss_ “perfect” _kiss_ “Harry” _kiss_ “Potter.” The delicate kisses end abruptly as she grabs his chin and wrenches his face up to hers, eye-to-eye.

“Get on your knees.”

Draco watches hungrily as Harry rises to his knees and crawls toward the headboard. She takes her time moving behind him, caressing his flank and nipping at his hip bones, before cupping his arse appreciatively.

“Are you fine with spells for prep?” Harry nods, not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking. He feels the tingle of a modified _Scourgify_ and the pulse of a mild relaxing spell, before a final wave of Draco’s wand conjures a great deal of lube, both in his arse and in her hand.

She presses a finger into him, just for the hell of it, and he buries his face in her fluffy pillows. He shudders and whimpers when she finds his prostate, but the feeling is gone too quickly as she pulls out. He glares over his shoulder, and she smirks.

“You’re going to come on my cock, _Potter_. Not my fingers.”

“Better get to it then, _Malfoy_.”

There’s no malice behind the surnames. Rather, it’s like a catharsis, all their history absolved in the burn and stretch of Draco’s cock breaching Harry, her grip on his hips tensing near the point of pain as she bottoms out. He can feel her shaking, trying not to come from the heat surrounding her. He knows from experience how good that first press into a tight, warm arsehole feels. From her reaction before, he’s pretty sure she’s never been on his end of things, but that’s fine with Harry. He loves taking cock.

With a deep steadying breath, Draco pulls out and thrusts back in, going for slow and deep straight out of the gate.

She sets a maddening pace. Harry pushes back into her, seeking out more friction, but she lightly slaps him. “Be still, Harry. I want to enjoy this.” He watches over his shoulder, when he can find the strength to lift his head. There’s a look of concentration on Draco’s face, eyes closed, makeup starting to run just a bit as she sweats. It appears as if she’s savoring the feeling of being completely buried in Harry.

It’s not quite hard enough for Harry to achieve orgasm, but he reaches the edge fairly quickly and is held there for what seems like forever. Each stroke in fills him completely; each stroke out leaves him nearly empty. It won’t tip him over, but it’s enjoyable all the same.

At one point she leans over him, pressing her breasts to his back, and simply rests for a moment. Even though they are connected below, as close as two people can be, this gesture feels more intimate to Harry.

After long minutes of being slowly fucked, Harry has bunched the sheets up in his fists. He’s stopped trying to buck up under her to increase the pace and simply takes it. This is novel to him - this thorough dismantling, his pleasure all at the whim of another.

She leans down to whisper in his ear, that deep melodic voice echoing through him. “Has any other man fucked you like this before, Harry?” All these years and she still reads him like a book. He shakes his head, words failing him.

Draco pauses on an instroke, and Harry can feel the cock pulsing inside him. He’s not sure how much control either of them has left.

In sync with his thoughts, Draco pulls out and bats at his hips to get him to roll over. Harry spreads his legs eagerly, already feeling the loss of her cock. She hooks his right leg over her shoulder and pushes back in immediately.

This time Draco doesn’t hold back. Her breasts bounce lightly as she pounds Harry’s arse and he reaches up to catch one in his grasp. He thumbs her nipple, then pinches it a bit roughly, and she shudders and bears down on him.

All hint of practiced delicacy has burned away, leaving a fierceness in her movement and her eyes. There's power in Draco, muscles Harry hadn't previously noticed tensing in her biceps as she grips his calf and spreads him even wider. She grunts on one particularly strong thrust, pushing Harry back towards the headboard. He feels overwhelmed, taken, more thoroughly possessed by Draco than with any other woman he's had before.

He knows it's an unfair thought as soon as he has it. Women can be just as harsh or physically strong as men. But in Draco, he can tell that the softness contrasted with power is part of her duality. It's her, it's him, it's Draco. He has the idea that he'd like to have a proper drink with her, catch up after all these years and find out how she came to this realization and acceptance of herself, but it's fleeting, quickly chased from his mind as he's fucked within an inch of his life.

“Oh god, Draco... no- other- man!” She grins and it's feral and he knows he's said the right thing. She swirls her hips just a bit, seeking that perfect spot within him, and he clenches when she hits it. Draco moans, speeding up, and he arches up to meet her, chasing his orgasm. The faster thrusts are just what he needs, and after being held on the edge for so long the end is that much more powerful. It's still a surprise when it hits, his come spurting between them in multiple pumps of creamy fluid.

His senses are briefly overwhelmed. When he catches his breath, Draco is tensing above him, obviously close. Panting, Harry trails a finger through the mess on his stomach, and reaches up to spread it on one bobbing nipple before capturing it in his mouth. Draco’s eyes go wide with lust, inarticulate noises pouring from her throat, and she stiffens as she hits her peak. Harry imagines he can feel her come filling him up, but that might just be the obscene amount of lube.

She bows her head and continues to lazily fuck Harry’s sensitive arsehole for another moment before collapsing on top of him.

She isn’t light, and after only a moment Harry has to wriggle out from under her. They lay beside each other, the streetlights and sounds from a waning Friday night floating in the open window, along with a summer breeze.

“I have an early morning,” Harry begins hesitantly, not wanting to be a fuck and run kind of guy with someone he’s known for so long, but not really in a position to stay over, either. Draco merely smiles and reaches over to pet Harry’s hair. She seems to be trying to get it to lie down.

“Fear not, Potter. You’re no less a gentleman if you leave me here swooning in my bed. I knew what I was getting into. You certainly don’t live in Paris.”

Harry allows himself to enjoy the sensation of being petted before begrudgingly leaving the bed and beginning the search for his scattered items of clothing. “No, but I’m not far either. I’d love to look you up another time.”

“You can look me up _and_ down, anytime.” A pleased smile spreads across Draco’s face as she stretches and reaches for her wand. After casting a cleaning charm on them both, she curls up under her soft duvet. “I trust you can let yourself out.”

Harry should feel used, but he doesn’t. He feels amazing. He drinks in the sight of Draco nestled warmly in her covers before grinning softly and making his way back down to the Floo.

He leaves a parchment with his address on the mantel.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](https://lower-east-side.tumblr.com/)


End file.
